Blocking Out the Sun
by of wonderlands and alices
Summary: Because sometimes, you need someone a little bit closer and realer than God. When everything is falling apart at your feet. ::michaelscena: postWM23
1. before we start

**Disclaimer will apply to this chapter and every chapter henceforth: WWE and all related logos, merchandise, and personas belong to a McMahon. Superstars belong to themselves, and to each other if they want.**

A/N: Uh, my excuse, you say? Well, it all started the day my brother was born…no? Okay then, uhh, there's nothing hotter than John and Shawn together? (Honesty _is _the best policy.) C'mon, they're already _insanely _hot by themselves, so can you imagine their hotness multiplied by two?! What? NO, YOU CAN'T?! Well neither can I, but I'll give it a shot (cheeky grin).

OMG: SLASH! Yes. Slash. MichaelsCena. Remember, the back button is your friend, oh and also, I'm going to be using a few quotes from Michael's autobiography because I like to make my stories as real and accurate as I can. So…the book is not mine either (which has a LOT of sweet pictures, though most black-and-white, it doesn't deter from Shawn's sexiness).

Time Period: Before the 5/23/07 Michaels-Cena match in England, y'know the one that lasted an hour. Yeah, so tag champs are the Hardy's I think, and Cena is WWE Champion just in case that changes. Triple H is still out on injury at this point and this is pretty AU from then on…so yeah. Please R&R, comments and criticism is appreciated.

* * *

alice fools- ×°▫»

_Kick Me_

CHAPTER I:

…before we start.

* * *

The current WWE Champion burst through the double doors of the chairman's office. One of his shoes untied, he hopped over to a seat. His shirt looked suspiciously like it was inside-out and one of the legs of his suit pants was rolled up. He looked to say the least, disheveled.

The other occupant of the room took notice with an amused smile. "Slow down, Vince isn't here yet."

"Huh?" John asked stupidly, feeling the affect of all-nighters finally taking toll.

"Not a morning person, I'm guessing."

It was around nine. John scowled darkly and began tying his shoes, "Not when Randy's idea of _fun_ is all-night bar hopping, I'm not."

After he finished, Shawn, dressed in dark blue jeans and a snug, black sweater, cleared his throat. "You do know your shirt is inside-out, right?" he mentioned with a small smirk. John looked down at himself, and sure enough he spotted the white thread of the buttons and the stitches on the edges against the navy fabric.

He laughed nervously for a second before he started taking off the shirt. It was a button-up, classy shirt, and something he wouldn't normally wear. He was so used to his street clothes that he forgot the proper way to remove said shirt, and ended up stuck with his arms up near his head when he tried to pull it up and off. He tugged a second time but the shirt wouldn't budge.

"Uh…Shawn?" he muttered, his panicky voice muffled by the fabric around his head.

Shawn looked up from his view of the carpet. "What?" he asked and stopped.

"I'm stuck," John explained helplessly.

Shawn cleared his throat to cover his laughter and ended up failing miserably. "Sorry but…you look stupid, Cena."

"Well thanks…" he paused, "but seriously, man…I can't breathe!"

"Alright, alright…" he muttered with another chuckle and moved in front of the struggling wrestler. It looked like he couldn't even move his arms too much, or else the shirt would rip. "It's a button-up, idiot, what were you trying to do?"

"Can we skip the name-calling until I'm free, please?!" John choked out, sounding like he was seriously suffocating. Shawn rolled his eyes and started tugging, but the shirt wasn't budging. If he continued pulling, Shawn was sure the shirt wouldn't come out alive so he changed tactic and began unbuttoning it quickly.

"Figures, your head can't fit through the hole…" Shawn said when John stopped speaking completely. He couldn't be seriously suffocating, right? His arms were up, and the shirt was squeezing him enough Shawn figured it was something akin to a choke-hold, so he might be. Still, that'd be a first (not to mention, really stupid).

Shawn placed his knee in between John's legs on the chair to gain leverage, before increasing his pace. "Hey Cena…you alive in there?" he asked, peeking inside. All he could see was the top of John's head. Finally getting mid-way through the shirt, John's arms fell down like dead weight and he groaned.

"_Ow_. Man, and I thought I was sore before…" he complained and rubbed his forearms. Annoyed with John in general, Shawn flicked him in the forehead. John whined again and started rubbing the offended area. With a fake and obnoxiously-loud cough, a new voice interrupted them.

It was Vince. And he was grinning.

"I see you two are…getting along," he stated with a smirk in his voice. Shawn, with his knee still in place between John's legs on the chair, was the first to notice how (uncomfortably) close they were. He moved away hastily and clumsily (_how in the hell did_ that _happen?!_), trying hard to keep himself from jumping away and freaking out. John was trying to blink the shock out of his face, but only managed to get it new shades of red.

While Shawn was trying to figure out how Vince entered the room without him noticing, Mr. McMahon moved behind his desk to sit down. "I'm just kidding you two, relax," he said airily (but still grinning) and shuffled some papers on his desk. "I was just caught up in some morning paperwork. Sorry if I kept you waiting…uh, Cena…is there any particular reason your shirt is inside-out and half-buttoned?"

Shawn couldn't bring himself to look but he could hear the champ chuckling nervously. "Uh, long story?" Mr. McMahon looked confused and a little disturbed, but nodded regardless as John fixed his shirt.

"I'll get straight to the point, gentlemen," he started once John was done, "I called you here to discuss a possible future for your tag-team duo." This certainly got their attention.

"What?" they chorused, both staring (well, Shawn was borderline glaring) at Mr. McMahon.

Vince, expecting such a response, raised his hands in a pacifying manner. It didn't exactly calm them down but they were quiet long enough for him to continue without interruption. Calmly, he said, "I know the angle is done. You were tag champions simultaneously feuding for the WWE Championship. It was a one-time thing through-and-through, but we didn't expect such a positive crowd reaction."

"What about the Khali angle, and the WWE Championship?" John asked abruptly.

"The idea is still in the works. For now, things will progress as planned; I only wanted to put this out there as a possibility. I think it might be a positive change for the both of you." When they shot him unconvinced looks, he sighed mentally.

He really had to sell the idea if he wanted to get anywhere. "You two have on-screen chemistry. You work well together and the crowd loves you. You guys have it, charms, spark, sense of humor; you're jokesters in more of an innocent light than DX," he directed this statement towards Shawn, who for his part, looked away from the chairman with a frown, "but still with your respective, edgy, inner demons."

John looked uneasy and Shawn wasn't speaking. Vince looked the current champ in the eye, "John, I know tag-team isn't exactly high card but trust me, this could do wonders for your career. Tag matches are a different world entirely and they might help you out ring-wise. This is a chance for you to grow as a wrestler and there's no better way than working with Michaels. He's the best there is." Vince didn't need to convince anyone of that.

John nodded. "I know, Vince…" he trailed off, still looking indecisive. "How long would our tag-team last anyway?"

Vince tried not to smile. "I'm not sure. I'm thinking along the terms of a simple return, so it could just be for an angle if things don't work out…" he stopped and both wrestlers looked up at as Vince stood up from his seat, "Listen, I'm not speaking in permanent terms; you should know better, I'm just interested in bringing your team back for a while."

Shawn shot Cena a look, noting the small gestures of anxiety the champ kept displaying. He was making _him_ nervous.

Vince noticed too, and feeling bad (and a little annoyed) he dismissed the wrestler, telling him to think things through and give him an answer later. He turned to Shawn, who moved to stand up too, and said, "Not you, Shawn."

Said wrestler blinked and sat back down, barely catching John's sympathetic glance as he made his escape. Once the current champ was gone, Shawn spoke, "What it is, Vince?"

The chairman smiled behind his desk. "What do you think?" he answered, speaking of his new idea.

"Sorry, doesn't interest me."

Vince frowned. "What? Why not?" he asked and sounded sincerely confused. Shawn almost glared at his boss.

"Cena isn't going to agree to this, Vince. He has his WWE Championship to worry about, and besides, what about DX?" he demanded.

"At the end of the day, it's my choice and what_ about_ DX? Shawn, honestly speaking, do you really think DX will make a return after this? Six months is a long time, and soon you'll have to have that knee surgery."

He couldn't argue with reason, but damn it, he'd try. "Yeah, but DX can overcome this. People love us, Vince, and pushing for a tag-team with Cena is only squashing any hope of a DX-reunion."

Vince closed his eyes and massaged his temples momentarily. "Shawn," he began, sounding tired, "don't be so close-minded. This is a great opportunity, why won't you give it a chance?"

He didn't really have an answer for that one.

"I understand DX is important to you but…"

"It won't be the same," Shawn cut in.

"I know, and I don't expect it to be. Hunter is one of a kind," Vince said with a knowing smile, "DX is one of a kind. I'm not trying to replace it or him." He still had that look on his face, like he knew what Shawn was thinking and he found it slightly humorous.

Well…maybe Shawn _was_ afraid Vince was trying to replace Hunter with John or DX with this new tag-team. Maybe he was afraid it would work. Maybe he was afraid they would make it and people would love them. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea. Maybe he was thinking too much.

"Feels like you are," he said at last and Vince chuckled despite Shawn's testy tone.

"Does it now? Shawn, don't take this the wrong way but – DX is over. At least for now, and you have to move on. You know I'm not going to push you into this tag-team but I think it's worth a shot."

Vince knew the question before Shawn even said it, "And what if it does work?"

"Do you really think it'll work?"

"No," Shawn answered quickly and Vince chuckled again.

"Then?" he asked.

"But what if it does?"

"Shawn…what is this really about? Is it Cena? Hunter? DX?" he paused, "Cena?"

It was a bit of everything but Shawn didn't answer.

"What's going on? Are you guys not getting along? Is that it?" By the tell-tale wrinkles in Vince's forehead, Shawn knew Vince was trying not to laugh. He was probably remembering the shirt incident earlier. Great, he'd never live that down.

Embarrassed (and with a tic in his eye), Shawn snapped, "_No_. I get along with him the same as everybody else in the locker room."

"Which means…you pretty much ignore him until you're forced to work with him, right?"

"Pretty much, yeah," Shawn admitted with a shrug. He wasn't paid to socialize.

Vince let out a sigh.

Shawn looked at the carpet underneath his feet. It wasn't just Cena, it was Hunter, it was DX, and it was everything. What would Hunter think when he saw Shawn and John working together again as a tag-team? Sure, Shawn would explain but…there would still be the blow of watching them on TV, probably triumphing against their foes and initiating a new tag era. Shawn was DX. There was room for nothing more but Vince couldn't understand that and Shawn didn't know why.

Vince brought him back to his office with an offer, his tone now professional, "Just do me this favor, Shawn. I'm not bringing this tag-team back for you – you're already a legend – I'm bringing it back for the kid. He needs some experience working and connecting with wrestlers and it doesn't get more cooperative than tag. If you agree to help, I promise it won't last."

"How long?" Shawn asked, tiredly. He needed a nap or something.

"Until you can't stand him," Vince answered humouredly, which prompted a glare from the Heartbreak Kid.

"So, you want me to be in a tag-team with him so he can improve as a wrestler? Or as a performer?"

"Both. You're great with both, and he needs help with both."

Shawn sat forward in his chair, "Okay, why the sudden interest in Cena?"

Mr. McMahon stayed quiet and Shawn raised an eyebrow suspiciously in his direction. The chairman folded his hands in front of him. "You were right…I was forcing him down the fans' throats…" he said, his tone sounding more abashed than upset.

"I told you, didn't I?"

Vince looked annoyed, "Yes, and I've paid the price. Cena's paid the price…but in that match with you at WrestleMania, he was something else, Shawn. _You_ were something else. I couldn't believe it, I was actually seeing something there besides marketing value and you were forcing it out of him. It was great…" He took a breath, "I want you two to work together again."

Mr. McMahon's tone had gradually changed as he spoke. He sounded excited proposing the idea to him, and yet Shawn couldn't figure out why this plan didn't sit well with him. "I didn't think the match was anything special," he said and he didn't really; it was just another match in his career, another WrestleMania he was proud of like all the others. Certainly nothing spectacular, or jaw-dropping, or career-changing like McMahon was making it out to be.

Vince smiled knowingly, looking wise for his years. "I know these things, Shawn. Trust me."

--

With the conversation weighing in his mind, Shawn stepped out of the chairman's office and almost ran into Cena's back. Apparently, the man made it a hobby of his to stand right in front of the door. Shawn grunted, annoyed, and pushed him away.

"Sorry," John apologized, turning to face the Heartbreak Kid. Shawn waved it off and moved to walk away.

Before he had walked too far, John called him back. "Uh, wait up!" he said quickly, and caught up with the older wrestler. "Shawn, man, I was waiting for you."

"What for?" He raised an eyebrow curiously, knowing Vince had kept him a long time.

They stepped into an elevator and John pressed the button for the first-floor, pretending to be undeterred by Shawn's indifferent response. "Breakfast," he explained, flashing a small smile in Shawn's direction. "IHOP, man. Can't have pancake-eating contests alone, you in?"

Shawn tried to stop himself from scowling. John wasn't the first one to invite him out somewhere; it seemed that everyone in the locker room had taken a special interest in Shawn's social life. Just this morning, Jeff invited him out sightseeing and some of the divas were jogging and asked him to tag along. Shelton was hitting the gym and Adam was going out to get some fresh air and they wanted him to join them. Frankly, it was getting (fucking) annoying.

He wondered if something was going on. People weren't usually so friendly and pleasant. Even if they were coworkers, most of the time the wrestlers preferred to get the hell away from everybody else when they got the chance. You could be the nicest of people, but traveling and practically _living_ with the same group of people day-and-night, will drive you nuts.

Sometimes you just wanted to be alone. "Nah, not today, thanks for the invite though. I think I'm just going to crash back at the hotel, but, uh…rain check?" he offered only to be polite and he knew it, but he didn't really care. It wasn't like John would remember either way (or take him up on it).

"Yeah, sure. Rain check," he agreed with an easy smile as the elevator reached floor level. "Oh yeah, thanks for the help with the shirt back there, bro," he said offhandedly but Shawn noticed he wouldn't look him in the eye. He nodded as the doors opened and gave a noncommittal 'no problem'. They walked out together through the lobby, Shawn suddenly feeling uncomfortable in the silence. He wondered why Cena wasn't bringing up the tag-team issue, and then he wondered why he cared.

Finally, John said with a teasing look, "So what are you doing later? You know, after your nap?"

Glad for the conversation, Shawn smiled mockingly in return, "Eh, play with my toy trains or something."

"Ooh, fun!" he retorted with an overzealous grin. Shawn shook his head, amused, when John spoke again. "I was just wondering if we could get in some practice for that match next Monday…"

"Huh?" he asked, obviously not following.

"Sorry," he said with an apologetic smile, "I'm kinda stressing because I know this match is going to be huge."

He was talking about the one hour match scheduled for them on the next Monday Night RAW, but to be honest, Shawn wasn't all that worried. He wasn't a practicer either, and things just had to happen in the ring for him to work.

"I don't know. I don't usually practice for matches," he offered him a sorry-shrug.

"Yeah, I know, but think you could make an exception? Pretty please?" he asked and tried the puppy-dog eyes. Shawn smiled at the lousy attempt.

He figured there was no reason why not (except he didn't want to, but his conscience wouldn't let him get away with that) so he gave in. With a defeated sigh for effect, he said, "Fine, fine, enough with the eyes already."

"Sweet! Thanks man," he said and raced over to his rental before Shawn could change his mind. "I'll call you!" he shouted over his shoulder with a wave.

Shawn didn't say anything in return and only stared as the champ ran off in the opposite direction.


	2. so I can choose

A/N: SWEET. I'm so happy I'm not the only one drooling over John/Shawn (okay, so maybe not everyone is drooling but still…my point stands –cough–). Anyway, SRC reviewed my story and I'm like having a freakin' heart attack!! I love her stories! YOU should definitely check 'em out. She's like the J.K. Rowling of wrestling, well to me, except that's probably not a good example cuz I don't like Harry Potter but you get my drift (I couldn't think of a better example, hee hee).

OMG: SLASH! Yes. Slash. MichaelsCena. Remember, the back button is your friend. Flames will be fed to KANE. MWA HAHAHA!

Time Period & Disclaimer: (found in first chapter.)

* * *

×°▫» 

CHAPTER II:

…so I can choose.

* * *

"Shawn!" 

The Heartbreak Kid looked back to find the source of the shout to find none other than Mickie James waving from the end of the hallway. He was only _two doors_ away from his room…maybe he could sneak—

"_Shawn_!"

He sighed quietly. Turning, he walked back with his hands in his pockets and tried to smile at the RAW diva. She was grinning as she ran up to him, clad in a track suit and a water bottle in hand, apparently back from the morning jog. "Hey Mickie," he said and luck had it that Torrie Wilson happened to step out of the elevator beside them at that very moment.

The blonde walked up to them cheerfully. "Mickie, we've been waiting for you," her eyes landed on Shawn and she smiled kindly.

Mickie nodded. "Yeah, I was headed down but I saw Shawn. I wanted to ask him to join us for breakfast," she looked to him eagerly, "So how 'bout it?"

"Good idea! We could use the company," and Torrie turned to him, too.

"Oh, well I would love to ladies but…" Mickie frowned, "I…uh, I have a meeting with Vince and I'm already going to be late," he lied. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought Torrie looked almost concerned. Concerned, for him no doubt but why?

"But Shawn," Mickie's tone had changed and she no longer sounded enthusiastic, "you were headed to your room."

"Yeah, I forgot my phone," he said, and it was true. He did actually forget his phone when he left for the meeting. Torrie looked like she bought it and was nodding but now Mickie's eyebrows were drawn together, worriedly. She smiled anyway and said they would go out next time, but when he turned to leave he could still feel her eyes burning on the back of his head.

--

He walked in and looked around the room, carefully. He couldn't see it anywhere.

He walked over to the nightstand to use the hotel phone and call himself when _alas, _he spotted his black cellphone next to the lamp. Besides feeling stupid, he was relieved he hadn't lost it. He couldn't remember half the numbers he needed if they weren't on the phone. He checked it for any messages or missed calls and sure enough, there were three missed calls from Hunter, Jeff, and John. Jeff left a message too, _Buncha guys& gals to club later. CALl mE or eLsE!!!1_ Typical Jeff. John left a voicemail and Hunter nothing. Of course, Shawn sighed, typical Hunter.

He called his voicemail to check out John's message and turned on the TV, switching from listening to watching.

"_It's John. Aw Shawn, are you still napping? What are you doing at night, bro? Obviously not sleeping…anyway, I thought we could set a time for the practice. I'm free tomorrow afternoon-ish, and Thursday and Sunday all day. So call me back whenever you get up, lazy ass _(John started snickering)_. Later, man."_

Shawn rolled his eyes and felt the small smile playing on his lips. Well, he could either call John or call Hunter. He chucked the remote at the TV (and missed on purpose) before dialing a number he knew by heart.

A deep voice answered after a couple of rings and Shawn smiled, "Hey Hunt…how're you feeling?"

"I'm fine, just bored out of my mind. And you?" he asked, pleasantly and so unlike Hunter that Shawn had to laugh.

For some reason, he felt better. "I'm okay, I think I might have to kill someone but I'm hanging in there."

Hunter laughed on the other line, soft but gruff. "Now Shawn, no mass destruction until I get back," he admonished and the teasing tone wiped the grin from Shawn's face. There was no longer room for DX in the WWE and Shawn didn't have the heart to say anything.

"So…" Hunter began, uncomfortable with the lack of response.

"So…?"

"So, I've been talking to Vince," Hunter grumbled.

"Oh," Shawn paused, not knowing what exactly that meant, "Okay."

"We were talking about Cena and you bringing back the tag-team. Well, more like _he _was talking about it and I was listening…" Hunter's voice held something close to anticipation and Shawn could feel the question there though it wasn't said. _Whose idea is that_? He thought it was funny they could communicate like this without speaking as if they were brothers, and yet sometimes Hunt confused the hell out of Shawn (and then he wouldn't know what was up or down with the man).

"Yeah, we had a meeting earlier today about that. His idea and he seems really into it," he stopped there. He didn't want to talk about it all of a sudden and he didn't know why.

"Hah, so what did he say when you refused?"

_What?_

When Shawn didn't respond, Hunter's voice turned firm, "You know…when you refused? Said no?"

"Well, I—"

"You did say _no_, didn't you?"

Shawn blanched. "I didn't say anything. He just told me about it," it was a half-truth but half was better than nothing. Damn it, what was he supposed to say? Shawn had practically said _yes_ to Vince already and he couldn't take it back.

"But you _are_ going to refuse…right? I mean, what about DX, Shawn?" Hunter's voice was soft, pleading but demanding at the same time and Shawn couldn't handle it. He could feel the guilt in the pit of his stomach.

_That's what I said…_"Vince said DX was over, Hunt."

"Over?" Shawn knew he couldn't just give up DX. It wouldn't be fair to Hunter or their fans and it wouldn't be fair to him, but what could he do? At the end of the day, it was Vince's decision and his alone to make.

"But…why?!" Hunter's voice had turned angry and close to outright yelling.

Shawn blinked, a little taken aback by Hunter's incensed response. "Uh…because the boss said so?" he tried to play it off as a joke, hoping to calm Hunter down.

"Shawn, how could you let Vince push you around like that?!"

"Well I didn't –"

"—and for what? So _Cena_ can look good in front of the few fans he has left?"

The enunciated _Cena_ gave Shawn pause and he forced himself to stay calm. "That's not it."

"Then what is? I don't understand why Vince gives such favor to that brat, and he makes you – of all people – put up with him!"

Okay, it sounded bad when he put it _like that_, but it wasn't so drastic. "Oh come on, Hunter, stop making him out to be public enemy number-one. Cena's not that bad and he's really working his ass out there with me. I know, alright? And so does Vince."

"...wait a second, why are you defending him?"

"Who, Vince?" he asked, although he knew that's not who Hunter was talking about.

"No, Cena."

"I'm not. I just…uh…"

"Oh right. You're not, how silly of me."

He rolled his eyes, feeling the exasperation. "I don't know," he said truthfully, "I guess it's because you're really down on the kid." Sure, he stuck up for him but it was only because Hunter was so demanding. Shawn knew what it was like to be put on the spot and be asked to give 110 percent effort 110 percent of the time.

"Well what did you expect?"

He frowned at Hunter's tone. "Jeez, take it easy Hunt."

Displeased, Hunter snorted but didn't reply. Shawn sighed.

"So he may not be the youngest, but that doesn't mean he's experienced enough for you to be so hard on him."

"And yet he's WWE Champion."

Another sigh. Touché. "Alright, alright, I get it. He doesn't deserve it – blah, blah, blah – he should lose it – blah, blah, blah – Mr. McMahon sucks – blah, blah, blah."

Hunter chuckled, "Thank you."

Shawn smiled. "Any time."

"But…seriously, Shawn."

"It's fine," he assured, tired of the conversation.

"…okay, but why are you so hunky-dory with all of this?"

"Because it isn't a big deal," Shawn said. The topic was making him a little restless and he started pacing the room.

"Quite a big deal," Hunter countered, now sounding suspicious.

"There's no point in complaining if I can't change it."

"_What?!_ That's the whole point of complaining, Shawn, _because_ you can't change it!"

"What the hell kind of logic is that?" he demanded. It was like arguing with a five-year-old and he was losing his patience.

"_Our_ logic," Hunter's voice was quiet, "what's going on over there, Shawn?"

"Nothing! Can we talk about something else?"

"Huh? Why?!" he whined and Shawn frowned irritably.

"Why are we even talking about this? It doesn't matter!" he insisted and his pace quickened the louder his voice got.

"It does too matter!"

"Hunter!"

"Shawn!" he mocked. "Just tell me what's going on! Is it Vince? Is he threatening you to do this?"

"Alright, Hunter, that's enough. If I become a tag-team with Cena, it'll be my own choice and nobody is going to pressure me."

"So if you two _do _become a team, it'll be willingly?"

"YES, _IF_!" and he threw his hands in the air for emphasize even though Hunter couldn't see him.

"Okay, fine! Calm down," Hunter muttered, shushing the Heartbreak Kid. "What's with you and that kid anyway? Are you guys buddy-buddy now?" He sounded disgruntled and something close to upset but Shawn's heart was beating loud in his ears and he didn't notice.

"What's with _you_ and Cena anyway? Are you guys mortal enemies now?" he retaliated to which Hunter stayed quiet.

"Fine," Hunter muttered after a minute, _truce_. "So. Basketball."

Shawn took a deep breath and willed his heart to slow down, "…yeah, basketball."

--

The longer he thought about his talk with Hunter, the harder it was to stop. It was eating away at his resolution. He knew if he continued thinking about it, he would eventually give in and tell Vince he didn't want to be tag partners with Cena. But he couldn't do that. He had already semi-"agreed" and he wasn't one to go back on his word.

Still…Hunter wasn't exactly thrilled with the idea of giving up DX, and in all honesty, neither was Shawn. Hunt was his best friend and Shawn would gladly give up whatever he had with John for his best friend – even if John was…erm, well, John was something more than Hunter but his point stands. Hunter was Hunter. His best friend and once-upon-a-time partner.

Damn it, he didn't know what to do anymore. (Not that he knew in the first place, but at least he knew what he was dealing with back then.) No matter how many times he asked himself _what am I going to do?_, the answer didn't come to him.

The slowly moving hours in his room had at least made one thing clear: he needed to get the hell out of here.

Go out, try and have fun, and be the ordinary Shawn Michaels again (the man, not the best friend or the wrestler). He never thought he'd be grateful to all the busybodies inviting him out. Something was up with them and he'd find out what, but right now, he needed to get his mind off things. He needed a distraction.

He picked up his cell phone and searched his phonebook for Jeff's number, idly wondering how said wrestler got along with his brother/tag-team partner. They _were_ brothers so he figured they probably got along great. After all, Shawn thought it would probably be hell having to spend so much time with someone you hated or didn't get along with…wait a minute…that's it!

"Hellooo?"

"Jeff, it's Shawn—"

"—oh, hey man! Did you get my message?"

"Yeah, I did," he said before Jeff took over.

"Awesome, so you _are _going hit the bar with us right?"

"Sure am, just tell me when and where."

"Right on," he said simply and Shawn could practically hear the smile in Jeff's voice. He was smiling too. He knew how he could get out of being Cena's tag partner without going back on his word. Now all he needed was John himself – and maybe a plan.


End file.
